Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince
by MandyLeigh87
Summary: Isabella Swan's life is perfectly planned for her, especially when it comes to entering the Miss Americana pageant like her mother did. One thing she didn't plan for? Town bad boy, Edward Cullen.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Isabella! We'll be late for sign up, come down here!" Momma calls up from downstairs as I give myself one last look in the mirror. My fingers brush over my shirt, perfectly pressed with no wrinkles. Then over my straight, dark hair, and across the pearls resting against my collar bone before resting back in my lap. I take a deep breath.

Makeup perfect. Hair brushed and set. Smile on.

"Coming, Momma!" I spritz some perfume on my wrist and rise from my vanity, grabbing my purse hanging on the back of my door as I head downstairs.

"Oh, honey, that shirt?" Momma scrunches her nose and her voice perks up like she's talking to a child who just walked out in their pajamas.

"Should I change?" I look down, wondering what's wrong with it. I don't want to make a bad impression.

"No, no," she shoos me toward the door. "We can't be late."

On the ride there, she quizzes me.

"What we do have the moment we walk in?" She asks.

"A smile to light up the room," I repeat, staring out the window at the houses as we pass by.

"And what is your name?"

"Isabella Marie Swan, and I'm a Senior at Pinehurst Academy."

Momma makes a turn down the main road and we park at the community center. "And what do you want to do after high school?"

_What do I want to do?_ Take a year off, maybe. Travel. Get out of this town. Meet new people.

"My dream is to go to community college and pursue a degree in general studies, just like my mother did." I say my lines so well, it almost convinces me.

"Good." She sighs in relief. "Good, baby."

Before we head inside, she pulls down the mirror and checks her makeup for the tenth time. My mother is beautiful, I just wish she would believe it too.

I watch all of the other girls with their mothers walking in. All of them like Barbie robots marching mechanically into the slaughter. Except in this case the slaughter is the Miss Americana pageant.

It's been my momma's dream to see me compete in the pageant she competed in when she was my age. So here I am, following her through the doors into a crowd of fake laughs and even faker smiles. Mine included.

"Renee!" Mrs. Weber stands from the reception table and gives Momma a half hug and a kiss on each cheek. "Isn't this so exciting that the girls are finally competing this year?"

"It's a dream come true!" Momma says, gesturing back to me. "Isabella, come."

I obey like a dog, hating myself more and more with each step. _Why can't I say no?_

"Isabella, Angela just came through here. I'm sure y'all will catch up at the introduction meeting." She hands me a clipboard. "Fill this out and you can return it to Mrs. Stanley at the next station there."

I sit in one of the chairs along the wall and fill out my form.

Name: Isabella Marie Swan

Age: 17 (for 3 more days)

Favorite Color: Purple

Special talent…I'm supposed to put baton twirling, because if I don't my momma will ask me what good all of those lessons did. But beyond that, what were my talents? I listen well. I do as I'm told. I never, ever stray from the path that's set for me. I fit the mold. Sometimes, I wonder if the mold fits me.

"Isabella, the introductory meeting will begin shortly," Mrs. Stanley reaches for my papers and shoos me into the room to the right. All of the girls, my competitors, are sitting in the chairs chatting amongst themselves. The mothers are lined up at the back, standing against the wall, smiling from ear to ear but secretly sizing up the competition.

I take a seat beside my friend, Jessica, and wait for the presentation.

The music stutters for a moment and then begins in a wailing, jubilant melody.

Mrs. Newton and Mrs. Weber step up to the microphone, do the obligatory tap, tap, tap, and start their speech.

"Welcome, girls. We are so excited to have you compete in this year's Miss Americana Pageant. As you all know, the winner receives a $1,000 scholarship, and more importantly the opportunity to represent our organization in the Hometown Glory parade," Mrs. Newton claps, nodding to the crowd.

"We're passing out the schedule now, please review. Practice for the show begins this weekend…"

Her words fade into the background as I read through the different events.

Rehearsals start Saturday, September 13th. _Great, Happy Birthday to me_.

Appearance at the Homecoming football game against our cross town rival Greystone on the 26th later this month.

Volunteering at the Halloween dance.

Pageant November 2nd.

That's it. A month and a half and I'm done.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out just enough to see who is calling. Dad. I hit ignore and stuff it back inside, telling myself not to forget to call him back once we're done.

"Isabella," Momma calls through the crowd once the meeting is over. "Ready to go, baby?"

"Ready." I nod and follow her out as she rambles on about gowns and shoes and interview answers.

When we get home, I finish my homework at the dining room table while I wait for dinner. My eyes drift up to the shelf above the counter, where a photo of Momma on the night she won Miss Americana when she was seventeen sits. She's wearing a beautiful silver dress with the tiara sitting perfectly on her head. She looked so happy. I wonder if I'll be that happy if I win.

My phone vibrates on the table and my stomach drops. I forgot to call Dad back.

"I'm sorry," I answer, cringing. "I forgot to call you back, I had that...meeting thing, you know?"

"For the pageant stuff," he says, with the least amount of enthusiasm possible. Dad isn't into all of this, but he doesn't have the energy to argue with Momma about it. He tried for nearly ten years before they split and he just won't anymore.

"Yeah, pageant stuff."

"I just wanted to see if you were still coming for your birthday on Friday night?" He asks.

"Yeah." I nod, finishing up a math problem. "Of course. I'll meet you at the diner. Say 7?"

"Sounds good. See you then."

"Bye, Dad." I hang up and slam my math book closed when I see dinner is finally ready.

The next two days at school is a clamor of gossip and excitement about the pageant. It might as well be the Miss America pageant to everyone around here.

"Did you see her?" Jessica asks, slipping behind me as I walk out the front doors Friday afternoon.

"Who?" I dig in my purse for my keys and try to remember where I parked.

"Rosalie Hale. She was at the sign up."

"Oh?" I don't really know Rosalie, but I know of her. A beautiful girl from the wrong school on the wrong side of town. I know exactly where she lives because her house is right next to my dad's.

"Does she really think she has a chance? It always goes to a Pinehurst girl," Jessica sneers.

I don't bother to answer her because I have other things on my mind. "See you tomorrow, Jess." I wave goodbye and head home.

When I get home I pack, trying to think of anything I might need for rehearsal tomorrow. Once my bag is packed, it's nearly time to meet my dad.

At the diner, I see his car outside and through the window notice him waiting in the booth. Our booth.

"Hi, Chief," I say, sliding into the seat.

"Bells. How was your...meeting...thing?" He sips his soda. I know he's not interested in the pageant, he's just being polite. Well, his version of polite.

"It was good." I nod.

"Miss Bella," Heather, the waitress who has worked there as long as I can remember, approaches our table. "The usual?"

"Yes, please," I say with a smile. After she fetches me my milkshake, I peel the paper off the straw and loop it over and over through my fingers.

"So, what's been going on?" Dad asks.

"Not much." I shake my head. "Just school stuff."

"You heard back from any colleges yet?"

I avoid the question like the plague because the truth is I haven't sent in any of the applications my parents think I have. I'm just not ready yet. How is anyone ready yet at seventeen, almost eighteen years old, to know what they want to do for the rest of their life? I've never been anywhere outside of this little town. What if college isn't what I want?

Thankfully before I can attempt to stutter out an answer, our food arrives. We make it through eating talking about regular things. The weather, the upcoming football season, things going on at work for him. Just when I think I've escaped unharmed, the singing starts.

"Happy Birthday" was never one of my favorite songs. Not because I didn't appreciate the sentiment, but I never knew what to do while it was happening. Do you smile? Sing along? Stare awkwardly into the void?

The mini-cake is placed in front of me, with exactly eighteen candles lit.

"Happy Birthday, Bella," Dad says, a sly smirk taking hold of his lips.

"Thanks, Dad." I take a deep breath and blow out my candles to a chorus of applause.

Back at his place, I bring my bag up to my room and sit down at my desk chair, twirling around. The light at the house across the way catches my eye, Rosalie's house. Well, not her house I guess, her parent's house. It's the nicest house on the block, which you would expect for a doctor's house, but I never understood why The Cullens lived here and not...somewhere else. It's not like it's a terrible place to live, but it's where the "Pubbies" live. Not that I buy into that public school versus private school bullshit, but small town politics do.

My dad's voice from downstairs catches my ear.

"Renee, I just don't think it's good for her. I don't even recognize her sometimes. My Bella played baseball, and got dirty, and wasn't always so reserved and put together...I'm not saying it's bad for her to be put together, you're not listening to me, Renee…"

They always argue about the pageant stuff. My mom has been preparing me for it for years, "practicing" in competitions all over the state. I've brought home a few crowns, but this is the one she really cares about. I mean, _I_ really care about. Right?

"She is my daughter," he continues. "She is. That's what shared custody means, we co-parent and make decisions for her best interest."

That's my cue. Hearing them fight over what's best for me always made me twitchy. I open my window and climb out onto the small ledge like I'd done a million times when I want to escape. I put my left foot on the nook beside my window, grab the top of the peak, and pull myself up and onto the roof. There's a slight dip to my right, my spot where I come to sit and think. It's been awhile since I've been here though, part of me wondered if it would even still be mine.

I lay back and feel the rough shingles dig into my back. The moon above is full and hanging high above me.

The shouting follows me. But this time, it's not my parents. It's coming from The Cullens' house.

"You aren't my father, Carlisle, you're going to have to accept that someday." A tall boy steps out the back door and I see the burning round embers of a lit cigarette.

"It can't be…" I mumble.

"Edward, get back in here right now!" Dr. Cullen peeks his head outside, but then looks around to the neighbors, not wanting to cause a scene I suppose.

Edward has caused enough scenes in the past few years to get more than a few passing glances from the people around here. Carlisle and his wife, Esme, adopted Edward when he was about five. They have a habit of doing that. Six times exactly. Edward was apparently the bad seed of the group.

I've heard so many rumors about him. Between his mysterious disappearances and the limited time I spend here, it's been a few years since I've actually seen him. Last I knew, he was in juvie for breaking into cars or something.

"Hey, Rapunzel!"

I blink, startled by someone calling up at me. Not just any someone. The very someone I was just thinking about. Edward Cullen is leaning on the fence separating our houses, puffing on a cigarette.

"Huh?"

"What the hell are you doing up there?" He asks.

"Um. Hiding, I guess."

"Mind if I hide away with you?"

Before I can answer, he swings his legs over the fence, scales up the lattice on the side of the house, and is sitting beside me only a few moments later.

"Hi," he says, smiling.

"Hi."

"What are you hiding away from?"

"Um." I look down at my feet.

"Aw, come on, Bella, don't leave me in suspense," he teases.

"You remember my name?"

"We've lived next to each other most of our lives, of course I remember your name." He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

"Well I don't really live here, and you...haven't been home much lately. I'm really just that girl next door...sometimes."

"Touche." He leans in. "I still remember your name though."

A string of obscenities echo from inside our house, I would assume that means the phone call with Mom is over.

"Daddy problems?" He asks. "Me too."

"No," I shake my head. "No, not at all. My...my parents don't agree on much, that's all."

"That's all?"

"What about you?"

He scratches his forehead and pulls his knees up to his chest. "Carlisle…he just…"

"Is being a dad?" I ask.

"He's not my dad." He shoots back.

"Let's see. He puts a roof over your head, feeds you, buys you guys nice cars, from what I can tell a nice guy who cares about you. I think I would call that a dad."

He stares at me for a moment before laughing. "Touche, again."

"He didn't leave Carlisle, his bike is still here." Esme walks out into their back yard and scans the area. "Edward?"

"I'm here, Ma!" He calls.

Her head jerks in our direction. "What the hell are you doing up there?" She comes closer. "Oh! Hello, Isabella. I didn't realize you were around. Nice to see you, sweetheart, I know your dad loves when you stay."

"Just celebrating my birthday with him, Mrs. Cullen. Nice to see you, too." Esme always seemed very sweet, but stubborn. A smile that could brighten your day and a tongue that could ruin it. I wonder if that's why Edward seems to have a sweet spot for her.

"Happy Birthday, dear." She smiles. "Edward, come inside."

He rises and makes his way down the way he came, but catches himself just before he disappears. "Happy Birthday, girl next door." With a wink he's gone and them both of them go inside arms wrapped around each other, Esme scolding him for the cigarette the entire way in.

The air turns cold and I decide it's time for me to head inside too. After all, rehearsal starts tomorrow and I have to be ready. _Woohoo._

* * *

**A/N: Did you blink several times to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on seeing this update? Good, me too. **

**Few things of importance before we venture too much further together. I am not committing to an update schedule. Because when I do and I get behind, it gives me anxiety and then it hinders me getting things out at all. Thanks for understanding! I still hope to finish Quarantine at some point.**

**Then this, is the most important thing. This story is a comedic romantic tragedy. Yes, I said tragedy. No, I will not go into any details about what that means or answer questions about the ending because I want to protect the integrity of the story. I understand if people don't do angst or sadness, totally get it, this story may not be for you. Please don't come at me later because you're sad and mad about it. I warned you. **

**For those of you still with me, Welcome to Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince, based almost entirely on Taylor Swift's new album.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Remember, honey, even though the rehearsals aren't technically part of the judging, they're always watching," Mom says as I walk through the doors.

_That doesn't sound creepy at all. _"Got it, Momma. I'm just heading in now."

"Good luck."

I follow the sound of the music to the main auditorium. All of the girls are sitting in the first few rows, chatting amongst themselves.

"Isabella!" Jessica ushers me into the seat beside her. "First day of rehearsals! So exciting."

"Ladies!" Mrs. Stanley claps her hands as she struts to the center of the stage. "We're going to start at the beginning with our opening number, but first I want to run through the schedule for that evening." She flips through a few pages. "We've got the introductions, Q and A, talent portion, evening gown presentation, and crowning."

Our choreographer, the high school cheer coach, pulls everyone on stage, pointing to each where they should stand for the opening number.

"Rosalie, here dear."

A pretty, blonde girl I recognize as Edward's sister emerges from the crowd. Most of the other girls snicker in her direction or ignore her completely. She takes her place, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of their antics.

"Isabella, you're here." I'm directed to the spot next to her.

Once everyone is placed, she leads us through the opening number a few times, which mostly consists of coordinated arm waves and foot taps. I was never the most coordinated person when it came to dancing, but even I could get it. Well, I could if this freaking spotlight wasn't pointing right in my eyes the entire time.

I put my hand up to my eyes, trying to signal whoever was running it.

"Edward, cut it out!" Rosalie shouts up toward the lights. The other girls fall silent and stare at her, mouths open and eyes wide.

Mrs. Stanley rises from her seat and glares up toward the back of the auditorium. The lights immediately flicker to their proper spot and stay there for the rest of rehearsal.

Once I've kicked and swayed and smiled my way through learning the routine, they call it for the day and we're done. I pack up my things and step outside.

"Nice moves, girl next door." Edward is leaning against the building.

"Thanks," I say. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm really into this type of thing." He smirks.

I roll my eyes. "I'm _sure _that's it."

"Community service, it's part of his probation," Rosalie says, passing by us without a glance in our direction.

"Bus-ted." I narrow my eyes at him and fight a smile.

"Wouldn't be the first time." He shrugs.

"Isabella, come to Mike's tonight," Jessica pounces on me, grabbing my arm and sizing up Edward.

"I don't think so, Jess. It's my birthday." I shake my head. I haven't even really seen my mom yet, although she barely mentioned it during our call earlier so I don't know that it's crossed her mind at all.

"Come on. It'll be a birthday party for you," she whines.

"Yeah, come on, Bella," Edward chimes in.

"Fine. I'll go," I give in. "If you go." I nod toward Edward. _Why did I do that?_

"It's kind of a private...party." Jessica eyes Edward. "Sorry," she apologizes, very disingenuous.

"Break my heart, Princess." He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights up.

"You said it's my birthday party right?" I ask. "So, I get to invite anyone I want. And I'm inviting him."

"Well. Fine." Jessica surrenders and makes a quick exit.

"You know that's like... really bad for you," I say, resisting the urge to flick his cigarette out of his mouth.

"A lot of things are, but life's short enough anyway, we might as well enjoy it." He pushes off from the building and throws his leg over his bike sitting in the front row of spaces. The next moment, he's gone with the burst of a rumbling engine.

When I get home, I spend some time with my mom, which involves her interrogating me about every single moment of rehearsal while she cuts me a slice of birthday cake. A very small one though. Can't have too many calories if I want to fit into my gown, she says.

I take a shower and as I finish drying my hair, down and straight like always, Momma steps in behind me, running her fingers through it.

"Don't ever cut your hair, baby. It's so beautiful like this." She kisses my head. "I have a good feeling, Isabella. I think we're going to win." A smile so big and bright crosses her lips and I wish just once she would smile like that for anything other than this pageant. Like when I made honor roll for the first time, or when I made captain of the tennis team, or was elected President of the National Honor Society.

"I have to finish getting ready," I say, almost fighting back tears as I dig in my makeup bag. Such a stupid thing to cry about. Isn't it?

"Okay. You have fun tonight."

I collect myself and finish my makeup. Jessica is downstairs already to pick me up by the time I'm ready, so I hop in her car and we're off to Mike's house.

He's already wasted by the time we get there, along with half of the senior class.

"Where are your parents this time, Mike? French Riviera? Italy?" I ask, pouring myself a drink.

"Skiing in the Alps." He raises his cup. "Cheers to that."

"Cheers."

He leans in, close enough to smell the booze on his breath. "Happy Birthday, Swan."

"Thanks."

I sit with Jessica and Angela, and listen to them go on and on about school this year, and dances and dresses, and what boys they want to hook up with. And I'm bored.

I look around the crowd anxiously, darting from group to group, doorway to doorway, and then I realize I'm looking for someone who isn't there. Is he coming? Probably not. I don't even know why I invited him. I don't really know him and this isn't his normal scene. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

I get my answer soon enough. The crowd falls nearly silent, which is strange enough for a group of teenagers, as he walks in the door, leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks so out of place here, and that's exactly why he stands out. In the best way.

Instead of hopping right up to greet him, I watch him for a few moments. I can tell he's looking for me too, but he's trying not to show it too much. Then, our eyes lock across the crowd, and he smirks, signaling with a salute.

"What's he doing here?" Angela asks.

Jessica scoffs. "Isabella invited him."

"Mike's going to be mad. You know how he feels about them," Angela says.

"Who's them?" I ask, keeping my eyes on him as he moves through the sea of people.

"The Pubbies." Public school kids. I shake my head.

"Well. He can just deal with it tonight." I smile. "Hi, Edward," I say, when he finally meets us.

"Bella." He nods. "Angie, Jess."

Their noses wrinkle like they smell something rotten.

"Do you want something to drink?" I ask.

"Sure."

I get up from the couch and lead him into the kitchen, where all of the drinks are. Bottles and bottles cover the island, barely leaving space for anything else.

"What's your poison?" I say, gesturing to the display.

"What are you drinking?" Without another word, he grabs my drink from my hand and takes a small sip.

"Jack and coke, hold the coke? Impressive."

I grab a cup and pour one for him. We head outside, and find a seat on a bench just a ways from the pool deck, which is a chaotic mess of people and clothes.

"I'm glad you came, I didn't know if you would," I say, smiling.

"Can't disappoint a lady on her birthday." He shrugs and takes a drink.

We make small talk, as much as you can make small talk in that situation, and I casually dance around the elephant...or the big spotlight, in the room. "So, what are you doing community service for?"

His eyes soften.

"Man, I thought I took the trash out before everyone got here, but I seem to have missed a piece." Mike slides obnoxiously in beside me, eying Edward.

"Newton," Edward greets him. "Nice place you've got here."

"Thanks. I don't remember inviting you though?"

"I invited him," I say, a little bold.

"Oh, Isabella. You've got to watch out for this one. Might end up with fleas or a permanent record." Mike watches Edward as he speaks, gauging his reaction.

"I think I know who to watch out for." I move closer to Edward, creating some distance between myself and Mike. Beyond his ridiculous behavior, he also smells like vomit.

"Maybe I should go," Edward says, setting his drink, barely touched, down on the ground.

"Maybe you should." Mike stands, puffing his chest like some gorilla in a battle for dominance.

"Back off, Mike." I try to stand to put myself in between them, but my foot catches on the bench and I tumble forward.

Edward catches me before I hit the ground and sets me back upright.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Don't get her dirty, Masen," Mike says.

"Fuck off," Edward snaps at Mike. "I'm going to go," he says, turning back to me. "Thanks for the invite."

My cheeks grow warm, embarrassed by my so called friends and their judgmental behavior. Edward shakes it off and starts to walk away.

"Yeah, that's it, Masen, go cry to daddy." Mike taunts, following close behind Edward as he tries to leave. "Cry, cry to Daddy Cullen!"

Without breaking his stride, Edward reaches beside him and shoves Mike hard, right into the pool. I jump as the cold water splashes toward me and hop back.

"Oh, you're dead," Mike says, spitting out water. "You're dead, Masen! I'll see you soon!"

"Looking forward to it!" Edward yells, disappears through the crowd. Part of me wants to follow him.

"Mike! Are you okay?" Jessica rushes to Mike's side and helps him out of the pool. "What was his problem?"

My foot moves, and then the other, and the next thing I know I'm jogging around the house toward the front, where Edward just went.

"Edward?" I call. My voice is drowned out by the loud rumble of a motorcycle starting, and he darts from the line of cars back onto the road, nothing but tail lights in the dark.

"I'm sorry," I say again, out loud, to no one in particular. Because the one person I want to hear it, is gone.

* * *

**A/N: Man, kids can be jerks. And adults for that matter, wtf Renee?! **

**Thank you so much for all of the love and support after the first chapter. I know a few of you have asked some questions about the level of angst and the all important will there be an HEA. To avoid spoilers and not taking away from those wanting to read the story as it should be, I'm not going to answer anything beyond what I say here. If you are unsure if this is the story for you, that is okay. I understand. If you need a trusted friend to read through it first and then tell you if you should read it, I encourage that if that's where you're at. I need to stay true to what this story is for me. I appreciate your understanding! I hope you enjoy watching these 2 grow together.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I don't sleep that night. Every time I check my phone the video of Edward pushing Mike into the pool has more and more views, and is being shared by most of my school. The comments make me want to throw up.

**Tyler: Watch your step, Mikey, Pubbie got the best of you this time.**

**Mike: This time. He'll get his payback soon enough, pussy ass bitch. #RevengeIsADishBestServedCold**

I wish I had Edward's number to call him and tell him how sorry I am that I put him into that situation. None of this was his fault. Now, he's got an even worse reputation than before and Mike has it out for him.

By the time the sun rises, I remember that an email went out with contact information for each of the pageant entries. Maybe I could contact Rosalie and get his number.

I hop up and open my laptop, searching for the email. It's too early to call. Maybe a text so she can just let me know once she's awake.

_Rosalie, It's Isabella Swan from the pageant and next door...sometimes. Could you get me Edward's number?_

I set my phone down expecting to get a response in a few hours once the rest of the world wakes up. My phone buzzes an instant later.

_How'd you get my number? _She asks.

_Pageant Directory, _I reply.

_That explains the influx. _I wonder what she means at first, but then it hits me that if I have her number, all of the girls that give her a hard time do too. _Why do you want his number?_

I have a feeling she knows about the video and the incident that sparked it, but I don't want to hash out the details regardless.

_Private, _I reply hoping she won't push it.

_If you want to send my brother pictures of your tits like all the girls at our school do, I'll let him decide whether he wants to see them or not. Ask him yourself, I hear him downstairs working on that hunk of metal he calls a bike._

My cheeks flush and I close my phone. Should I drive over there?

I grab my keys and sneak silently downstairs, hoping Momma won't catch me heading out this early. It'll just lead to an interrogation that I don't need.

The drive is shorter than normal, the streets empty and the world too quiet this early. I pull into my dad's driveway, but his car is gone so he must be working the night shift.

I hover in my car for a few minutes, wondering what's the right thing to say. I'm sure he wants nothing to do with me now. But did he before? He couldn't like me, even as a friend, right? He probably thinks I'm some stuck up bitch like most of the people I unfortunately call friends are.

Right?

A knock at the window startles me and I instinctively lay on my horn. When I see who it is, I clear my throat and get out of the car.

"Good morning, sunshine," Edward says.

"Morning."

"Trying to wake up the entire block?" He smiles.

"No. Uh. I just, you scared me," I admit.

"You scared me. I look out the window and see you arguing with yourself over here. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"That's embarrassing…" I mumble.

He starts back toward his house. "Your dad won't be home for a few more minutes, sorry."

I follow him. "I know, I didn't come to see him. I came to see you."

"You did?" He looks back over his shoulder as we reach the garage. There's a drop cloth on the floor and his bike is sitting in the middle with tools spread around.

"Well, I wanted to call, so I texted Rosalie to get your number, but she wouldn't give it to me, and so then I just drove here because she said you were awake."

"You woke Sleeping Beauty?" He sighs. "Do you know what kind of plague you've unleashed on this house today?"

"Wait, what?"

"Nevermind. What did you need to talk to me about?"

I find my strongest voice. "I just wanted to apologize for last night."

"Why are you apologizing?" He asks, picking up a wrench and tinkering with the bike.

"Because...Mike. He said some awful things."

"Yeah, he did." He stands up and brushes his hands on his pants. "Again, why are you apologizing?"

"I thought I...just...said…" I wonder.

He takes a step toward me, close enough that I can smell him. Grease and tobacco. Sounds gross, but for some strange reason it's not on him.

"Stop apologizing for someone else. My mom did that shit her entire life."

I nod. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I don't sleep," he says.

"Like… at all?" I ask.

He laughs. "Like, not well. Haven't for a long time."

"That sounds terrible."

"You get used to it."

Headlights splash across his face. I turn around and see my dad's cruiser pulling in, probably wondering what the heck my car is doing there.

"I should go." I turn to leave. "Wait. Can I get your phone number? That way next time I won't have to wake Rosalie."

"Next time?" He puts his hands on his hips. "What do you need it for?"

What do I need it for? Do I plan on calling him? Getting to know him? Is this a good idea?

"It's not for boob pictures," I say quickly. When I realize what I said, my hand flies to my mouth.

"Well, that's disappointing." He laughs and leans forward, grabbing my phone out of my hand. He types for a bit and then hands it back to me. "Are you this forward with all of your other boyfriends?"

"No. I mean. I don't have boyfriends." Where is eloquent, sophisticated, well spoken Isabella? My mother would kill me and then make me pay her back for all of the finishing school lessons. All of this mumbling and word vomit is so unlike me.

"Good. You should go see Charlie, he's been hovering." He nods toward my dad's house and goes back to work. "And hey," his voice softens. "This whole no makeup thing, it works for you."

I curse myself again for disregarding one of Momma's life mottos. Never go to the grocery store without mascara. Or anywhere else for that matter. I turn on my heel and march back across the yard.

"Morning, Dad," I say.

He lingers too long on the Cullen's garage, probably trying to decode the mystery.

"I just," I start. "Came to take you out to breakfast and was a little early."

"Is that Edward in there?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Watch it, Bella. Your mother would never let you come over here if she knew you were talking to him."

"Just making small talk with the neighbors, Dad. So, breakfast?" I smile.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope everyone stays safe and healthy during this crazy time.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**TW: This chapter does involve discussion of child abuse (non-graphic)**

"Isabella!" Momma snaps her fingers and I realize I'm daydreaming out of the shop window. People pass outside, raking in the sunshine while I'm stuck in this store trying on dress after dress.

"Sorry, Momma." I turn my gaze to the mirror. The beads on the bust of the deep purple gown sparkle in the lights.

"Not good enough. Your gown speaks volumes, Isabella. What do we want to say?"

I resist the urge to shrug.

"I am a winner," she answers her own question.

I try on three more dresses before she decides on one. I don't really like it. But I knew the moment I stepped out and her eyes lit up that it was the one.

The manager rings us up and packs up my dress into a bag.

"Should we grab lunch?" Momma asks, holding the door open for me as we leave.

"Sure."

We walk a block down and across the street, I spot Edward and Dr. Cullen walking out of the offices of Weber and Weber, Angela's dad and the best lawyer in town. I nearly didn't recognize him in his jacket and tie, it's a far cry from the greasy jeans and the pushed up sleeves of a faded plaid shirt.

I instinctively step off the curb and cross the street to meet him. Momma is a few steps ahead of me, so she doesn't realize I'm not behind her until I'm standing in front of him.

"Edward!" I call.

"Bella." He runs his fingers through his hair, obviously irritated. He loosens the tie around his neck a little.

"Miss Swan." Dr. Cullen smiles and waves at Momma as she finally follows me across the street. "Renee."

"Dr. Cullen. Pleasure to see you." Momma doesn't address Edward. At all.

"You as well, doing some shopping?" Dr. Cullen gestures toward my bag.

"Yes. Picked out a dress for the pageant," I answer.

"Ah, yes, the pageant. Rosie just picked out hers yesterday. I'm sure it's lovely."

The silence that follows swallows me. I look at Edward, but he's not looking at me or anything. His eyes are at the ground.

"Well. We should be going. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, ladies." Dr. Cullen nods and starts toward his car. "Edward?"

Edward pauses for a second, his small act of rebellion, and then follows without another word.

"Isabella?" Momma ushers me along toward the cafe. I follow, looking back for only a moment. When I do, I see Edward and Dr. Cullen arguing inside their car.

"Terrible boy," Momma says.

"What?" I turn back to her as we walk into the cafe.

"That boy. He's been nothing but trouble for the Cullens since they took him in." She slides into a seat at the table right at the window. "I'm surprised they haven't gotten rid of him by now."

My heart stings when she says that. Like he's a piece of trash to be thrown away.

"You're judging him," I say. "And you don't even know him." I reluctantly sit across from her.

"I don't want to know him." She begins to unroll her napkin and places it in her lap as she arranges her utensils on the table top. "You know he was arrested for assault, Isabella? He's no good, that's for sure. I can't believe they're even letting him work around you all for the pageant." She flips on a smile as the waitress approaches. "Iced tea with three ice cubes and two lemon slices."

"Can I get you something to drink?" She asks me.

"Just water, please. Thank you." I sigh and look out the window just in time to see the Cullen's car drive by. Edward glances my direction as they pass and I see so much sadness in his eyes that I nearly cry myself.

When we get home, I go upstairs and hang up my dress, but I can't get Edward off my mind.

Without another thought, I pack a small bag and meet my mom in the foyer.

"I'm going to stay at Dad's tonight," I say, reaching for the doorknob.

"Don't be silly, we've got things to work on." She laughs, but not out of humor. It's dripping thick with disdain.

"I already promised him I would," I lie.

She narrows her eyes at me with a stare that usually makes me cower.

"I'm going," I say.

She doesn't argue when I open the door. "Practice, please."

"Yes, ma'am." I pull the door closed behind me and hop in the car.

My dad is surprised when I pull into his driveway. He's out front mowing the lawn, even though it looks like it could rain at any minute.

"Bells?" He pulls the mower into the shed. "Did I forget you were coming? Come in here kiddo." He holds out his arm and I hug him. He smells like grass.

"No, you didn't. I just decided to come. Hope that's okay?"

"Always okay." He smiles.

We watch the Mariners and eat dinner just as the rain starts. As I do the dishes, my eyes drift across the yard to the Cullen house. The window at the peak of the top floor is lit and open. Inside, I see Edward's shape pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Was what Momma said about him really true? Assault? That doesn't seem like him.

_You don't know him, Bella. _I pause and dry my hands.

I grab my jacket, pull my hood up over my head, and step outside while Dad snores in the recliner. The raindrops are plump and fat, smacking against me like pellets.

When I knock at the Cullen's front door, I don't know exactly what I'm going to say.

Mrs. Cullen answers the door and smiles. "Isabella!"

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," I say.

"Esme, please. Come in." She steps aside and I walk in.

I've never seen the inside of their house. It's nice, but modest.

"Rosie will be happy you stopped by, I'm sure you have pageant fun to discuss, let me go get her." She starts toward the staircase in front of us.

"Oh, Mrs. Cullen…" I raise my hand. "Sorry, Esme. I'm actually here to see Edward." I glance up, where I know his room is, where he's probably still pacing back and forth.

"Oh?" She cocks her eyebrow. "I don't think he's feeling well, honey. Maybe another time?"

"Oh." I look down at my feet. "Maybe just for a minute? He's lending me...a book?"

"I see." Her smile returns. "Okay. Just for a minute. Up the two flights of stairs, only door at the top."

"Thank you." I take off my shoes so I don't track in any mud and start up.

On the second landing, I see a slice of Rosalie through a cracked door. She's sitting on her bed looking up at what must be her dress. And she's smiling like I've never seen her.

I blush, intruding on a private moment, and continue up the stairs.

I hear the music grow louder with each step up the second staircase. His door is closed, but I can see the line of light from under.

_Don't be a coward, _I tell myself as I hover outside of his door.

I raise my hand and knock twice.

"What do you want?" He asks.

The words get stuck in my throat. Why am I so nervous? Because my friends humiliated him the other night. Because my mom judged him today, even though he doesn't know about that one.

"I said," the door whips open, "what do you want?"

His expression softens when he sees it's me.

"Hi."

"Hi." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Uh. What are you doing here?"

"I...don't really know."

He steps aside and allows me in, closing the door behind me. The entire room is lit by a single lamp in the corner. His bed is pushed up against one wall, with a desk opposite and books and papers strewn around.

He leans against his desk, turns down his music just a bit, and crosses his arms, in a "Well, what now" kind of way.

"Why..." I pause. "Why do people…" I can't even say it.

"Why do people hate me?" He completes my thought.

I nod.

"Because people need someone to be the bad guy and tag I'm it."

"I just don't understand." I think back to all that I know about Edward, and everything I know comes from other people. They painted him this way. "My mother, this town...my friends." I put him in the line of fire by inviting him to that party. "I'm sorry I invited you to Mike's."

"You're sorry you invited me?" He cocks his eyebrow as thunder claps outside. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"I don't mean it like that. I just mean...if I wouldn't have invited you that wouldn't have happened."

"What did you expect would happen, Bella?" He asks, sharper than I was expecting. "Did you think we were all going to get together and sing Kumbyah?!"

"No," I snap back, taking a step forward. "Why did you even come then?!" My whole body radiates heat.

"It was obviously a mistake." He turns to his desk and rifles through some of his papers. "Anything else?"

Tears burn my eyes. "Guess not."

I turn on my heel and march out of his room and back downstairs. As soon as I hit the landing below, I catch Rosalie coming out of the bathroom.

"What are you doing in my house?" She asks, glancing behind me up at Edward's bedroom door. "He's in a mood, I hope you took a shield up there with you."

"Yeah, thanks for the warning." I wipe my eyes, force a smile, and continue downstairs. I mumble a quick goodbye to Esme and step outside into the pouring rain.

I allow my hair, my clothes, my everything to get soaked on the short walk back to my dad's house. When I get inside, I kick off my shoes and head upstairs, leaving a trail of water droplets in my wake.

I go directly into the bathroom and, still clothed, lay in the bathtub.

_What the fuck just happened?_

I lay there for awhile before stripping down, piling my clothes in the corner, and taking a hot shower. When I'm done, I crawl into bed, hair wet and tangled, and try to fall asleep against the noise of the rain pelting my window.

I fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know, I'm waking up to the sound of knocking at my window.

I freeze and hold my breath. Someone's breaking in.

_But wait, why would they knock?_

I sit up and turn toward the window. A shadow of a person is crouched out on the roof. And then the shadow waves to me.

I roll out of bed and cautiously cross the floor until I can see his face.

I cross my arms and stare at him. I hope he's cold and wet and uncomfortable.

"Please, Bella," Edward says, barely audible over the rain and the thunder.

I reluctantly open my window and he hops in.

"My dad will kill you if he finds you in here, you know," I say.

"I'll take my chances." He glances behind him. "It's really raining out there."

"Uh-huh." I realize at that point that I'm not wearing any pants. I quickly grab my blanket and wrap it around myself. "What do you want?"

"I want to tell you the truth."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Because I feel like you'll actually listen."

I flip on the lamp beside my bed and sit.

"Okay," I say. "Where do you want to start?"

"With this." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded up photo. When he hands it to me, I realize it's him with a little boy who looked to be about ten or so. And Edward is glowing.

"Who's this?" I ask, handing the photo back to him.

"That's my brother, Ben. Well, half brother." He sits on my desk chair.

"Wow, I didn't know you had any blood siblings."

"Neither did I," he says, smiling. "Until about three years ago." He leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. "See my mom and dad split up when I was really little. My dad left, so my mom was raising me on her own. When my mom died, they tried to get in touch with him to take me in, but they never could and so I went into the system and the Cullens took me in."

"So, how did you find out about Ben?"

"He wrote me a letter." He smirks. "Apparently my sperm donor told him about me. The kid is a whiz at computers and he managed to track me down."

"So, your dad…"

"Is a piece of shit," he interrupts, "But more on that later."

I scoot to the edge of my bed.

"So, Ben sends me a letter, right? First thought is _holy shit_ I have a brother. Second thought is, how much did my dad really know about where I was and who I was with now?"

"I'm sorry, that must have been tough."

"I mourned the loss of my dad my entire childhood. He was dead to me the moment he walked out the door. But...this kid, Bella. He's amazing." He looks like he's about to burst. "He's smart and funny and a complete wise-ass."

"Wonder where he got that from?" I joke.

"Yeah." His smile fades. "So, when he calls me in the middle of the night screaming and crying that our dad is beating up on him, I go."

"You go?"

"I left without telling anybody. Right then. And when my bike broke down an hour outside of town, I borrowed someone's car."

I don't question his use of the word borrowed. Not at this point.

"And I drive to their house, because it's only a five hour drive from here. And I find Ben in his bedroom, huddled up on his bed that was soaked with piss because he was too scared to get up and go to the bathroom." He chokes up a bit. "And a switch flips in me, and I'm telling you, Bella, I couldn't help it. I snapped."

I instinctively reach out and rest a caring hand on his knee.

"I found our sorry excuse for a father passed out drunk on the couch. And I just...start hitting him."

"Oh, God," I whisper.

"I beat him so bad he's unconscious, like for real. I grab Ben and we high tail it out of there. We barely made it past the city limits before the cops pulled us over for the stolen vehicle."

"So, what happened?"

"My father ended up in the ICU, but he survived. Ben told them what happened and now he lives with his aunt just an hour away. And because I was considered a troublemaker and the system is fucked, I had to plead down from kidnapping and stealing the car to an assault charge."

"But that's not fair." I pushed away a tear rolling down my cheek. "You were just protecting him."

"Bella, the world sees you how they want to see you. I'm a juvenile delinquent. You're the prom queen prep."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"But it is. And your mom and your friends, they'll say all kinds of shit about me. Some of it's real and some of it is bullshit. But does it really matter?"

I grab his hand and nod. "It matters. It matters to me."

* * *

**A/N: Our bad boy Edward has a heart of gold. Is anyone surprised?**

**Thank you for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Can it get any hotter in here?" Jessica fans herself as we line up for the opening number again.

"They said the air conditioner is broken." Sweat rolls down my back. "I can't believe it's this hot at the end of September."

"Ladies, let's take a ten minute break. Get a drink and rest a bit." Mrs. Webber storms off toward the front office, probably asking for another update on the air. We've all been suffering in literal hell for the last two hours.

I grab a bottle of water and start toward the hallway where it's hopefully a bit cooler. Just before I reach the back, I see the door for crew that leads to the rafters, spotlights, and all of the behind the scenes stuff.

I step through and the door closes heavy behind me. "Edward?" I call. He must be back here, I saw him running around just a bit ago.

It's dark and stifling hot back here, worse than on stage. I weave my way down the hallway, stepping around boxes and stage equipment.

"Edward?" I call again, making my way up a tall flight of metal stairs.

When I reach the top, I realize I'm walking on a catwalk above the stage. A set of lights are spaced out on the railing every few feet.

_He must not be up here. _I turn around and run right into bare skin.

"Oh, God," I stutter.

"No, just me." Edward, shirtless and glistening with sweat, steps around me carrying a light bulb in his hands. "Hot as fuck in here, eh?"

"Yeah."

He fixes the lightbulb and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Drink?" I offer him my water bottle.

"Yep." He takes a big swig and hands it back to me. "Thanks."

"You doing okay up here?" I ask.

"Oh, I'm doing fine." He smiles and winks at me. "Besides, view's not so bad."

"I probably look like a drunken bird going through those stupid dance moves." I laugh.

"Not at all. You're beautiful…" He reaches out and touches my cheek just for a moment, like he let himself slip. I flush with heat and I'm already hot as it is. "Uh...sorry." He looks down, but I see a smirk touch his lips.

"It's okay."

"She's such a slut…" We hear gigging below us. I glance down and see Jessica talking with a group of girls. "You know she's probably doing him."

"Who, Rosalie?" One of the others ask.

"Well, obviously. And they live together, it's _weird_. But I was talking about Isabella."

My heart stops. _What?_

"Don't you think it's weird that she invited Edward to Mike's place, and now as soon as we have a break, she's running off behind stage to find him? Totally sleeping together. He's probably got her bent over some box in the back."

I hear Edward almost growl beside me and start like he's going to shout something to them. I reach over and grab his wrist, shaking my head no.

"At least she's getting some finally, you know she was a dried up virgin." One of the other girls shrugs with a laugh. Angela stands quiet, looking uncomfortable. I guess not uncomfortable enough to speak up and defend someone she calls her friend.

I don't cry. Even though I probably should.

They move along, but Edward and I don't move.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he says.

"You're sorry? They're my friends." I shake my head. "Or so I thought."

"People are fucking fake and shitty. And other people fawn all over them like they're God-damn royalty."

"You're not fake," my voice trembles. "You've never been anyone but who you are."

"Yeah." He nods. "And the world punishes me for it." He starts working on the light again and it flicks back on. "You better get back."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" He asks.

"Not let it get to you."

"I stopped letting people like that matter to me."

I nod and start back down toward the stage, not bothering to say a word to Jessica.

"Where'd you slip off to, Isabella?" She teases. The girls all giggle. Well, everyone but Rosalie.

I clench my fists and bite my tongue as the music starts.

The line starts to move in front of me, each girl falling behind and slinking like a giant snake across the stage.

Jessica walks toward me, eyes and fake smile out toward the invisible audience, waving her hand back and forth like she's parading herself.

I know it's petty. I know it's wrong. I know it's beneath me. But as she reaches me, I poke my leg out in front of her. Her foot catches on mine and she falls forward. Hard.

Everyone gasps as she hits the floor.

They look at her. They look at me. And all I can do is stutter out a few words.

"Oh, Jessica, I'm so sorry!" I shrug. "My bad!"

She sits up, rubbing her cheek, her eyes glaring.

A soft, barely there chuckle echoes above the stage. I glance up and see Edward sitting over the edge of the walkway. Behind the bright lights, I swear I see him smiling.

I look back at the girls I once called my friends, and then walk off stage. They don't matter to me anymore.

I drive around aimlessly for almost an hour because I know what's waiting for me at home. I know Jessica's mom would have called Momma by now and told her about my "misbehaving" and all.

Once I park in the driveway, I see her in the window. Arms crossed, foot probably tapping a mile a minute just waiting for me to get inside.

"Well," she says, as soon as I open the door.

"Hi to you too."

"What the Hell happened, Isabella? Mrs. Stanley says Jessica has a huge bruise on her cheek because you tripped her. This is just all so unlike you. You're lucky the judges weren't observing rehearsals."

"It was an accident, Momma." The confidence I'd had moments ago, an hour ago, is gone, cowering under her stare.

"It better have been." She points a finger at me. "I'm supposed to go out of town this weekend, how do I know I can even trust you to behave?"

_I'm not going to trip anybody else if that's what you're asking. _I did feel a little bad about it to be honest. "Go on your girls' weekend, Momma. I'll be fine. I can go stay at Dad's if you want." I head upstairs to my room, close the door and lay down on my bed.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. It's him.

"Hello," I answer.

"Despite my past, I'm not one to advocate violence," Edward says. "But nice moves, Swan."

"It was an accident," I lie.

"Bullshit."

I smile.

"I'm taking your advice. They don't matter to me anymore."

My bedroom door opens without so much as even a knock and I pull my phone down.

"Who are you talking to? Best be Jessica apologizing for maiming her face," Momma says. It was hardly maiming. "I want you to stay here this weekend, not your father's. Maybe he's the bad influence. If I hear one peep of bad behavior I'm coming straight home."

She closes the door.

"Sorry," I say, bringing my phone back up to my ear.

"Did I hear that right? Isabella Swan is going to be all by her lonesome this weekend?"

"You sound a little devious, Masen," I tease. "I think Momma's wrong about who's the bad influence."

"And it's been a pleasure to be of service. See you this weekend."

He hangs up and my heart's a fluttering in a million different ways in my chest. Do I like him? Like...like-like him.

He's definitely an influence. And I know I like that.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I wait for him on Friday night, like I'm expecting him to call me or show up at my door. But he doesn't.

I log onto my social media and browse for endless hours. My profile picture is staring me in the face. Me and Jessica. It almost makes me throw up to think back to all of those things she said about me. Were those the first drops of venom leaving her lips? Will they be the last?

Momma's already posted some pictures of her and her girlfriends down in Napa on their annual Wine Weekend. She's smiling and glowing, a glass of Pinot in her hand. I never much liked her friends, but I never for a second doubted they were anything but the catty women they weren't ashamed to be. At least they weren't fake.

I click on my picture and change it to a picture of just me, in my dad's house this summer. I'm sitting at the table in the morning, with a hot mug of coffee lifted to my smiling lips. Seems like a long time ago, a different, much simpler time. And I was happy in that moment. Truly, genuinely happy.

A moment later, a notification pops up saying Edward Masen liked my photo.

_Should I text him? _He's obviously awake.

I debate for long enough that I finally fall asleep way past midnight, listening to old podcast episodes and my bedside lamp still on.

The rev of an engine wakes me way too early. I groan and roll over, squinting at the clock. Seven o'clock. Who the heck would be out riding a motorcycle this early in the morning?

My eyes widen. I know exactly who.

I hop out of bed and stumble to the window. Edward and his bike are parked right outside my house on the road, peering up at my room.

I crack it open and lean out.

"A little early, don't you think?" I call, glancing around to my neighbor's houses. This kind of thing is definitely something they'd report back to Momma. Kid from the wrong side of town with a bad reputation showing up to see your daughter while you're out of town.

"Just couldn't wait to see ya, Swan." He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Come on." He throws his leg over the bike and goes to rev it.

"Will you...just give me a minute?" I ask, begging him not to draw more attention.

"Ten minutes, Princess. I run a tight ship."

_Ten minutes?_ It usually takes me that long just to pick out my outfit.

I quickly close my window and run into my closet, throwing on some leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and boots. Not my normal attire, but it was the first clean things I could get my hands on. I run to the bathroom and run a comb through my hair and brush my teeth. I glance at the clock. I have approximately three minutes left.

I swipe some moisturizer across my face and a dab of mascara and step back. He said he thought I looked beautiful without makeup. I don't feel so done up. And I like it. Maybe this is okay? I tilt my head to the side, contemplating. The rev of his engine answers for me, and I rush downstairs, grabbing my scarf hanging on the handrail as I tumble out the front door.

"Gorgeous," he says, handing me a helmet.

I assess the bike. I'm going to have to sit close. Real close to him. Pressed up against his back, legs wrapped around. Can I do this?

"Your chariot." He pats the seat.

"You've fixed it, right? Like it works okay?" I ask.

"Most of the time, yeah."

I narrow my eyes at him as I slide the helmet over my head.

"I'm just kidding," he jokes. "It's perfectly safe."

I throw my leg over the seat and sit, my chest flush against his back, and tentatively wrap my arms around him.

He hits the gas and I start to slide back on the seat. I squeeze tight, pulling myself back toward him.

We ride through my neighborhood, through downtown. It's not too busy yet, still a little early for most to be out and about.

When we hit the city limits, I relax into him, the wind whipping my hair sticking out from under the helmet.

"You okay?" He asks, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I smile. "I'm okay."

The road extends in front of us, the sun rising higher and higher in the sky with each mile.

I start to lose myself in the feel of the wind and the warmth of his body against mine.

We ride for a long time, and more and more cars find their way out onto the road.

I squeeze my hands, gripping and twisting the front of his shirt, as we pull off an exit about an hour outside of town. Where is he taking me?

We take a left and then a right, and come to the entrance of a park.

There's a small parking lot with a few cars, with picnic tables, a playground, and the entrance to some hiking trails nearby.

He parks next to a van and we get off the bike. I pull the helmet off and shake my hair off.

"What are we doing here?" I ask.

"Edward!" A voice calls from behind us.

"Hey, bud!"

A boy I recognize as Ben from the photo practically jumps into his arms.

Even though he's probably way too big to get picked up, Edward throws him over his shoulder and waves to a lady behind me, reading at one of the park benches.

"Thanks for bringing him, Kate!"

"Who are you?" Ben asks me.

"I'm Isabella." I smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Are you my brother's girlfriend?" He asks, laughing.

"Uh." I blush and look down at the ground.

"What is this, twenty questions?" Edward tickles him and sets him back down. "You must have grown at least a foot since last month."

"Probably," Ben says.

"What'd you bring today?" Edward asks.

"Math."

Edward wrinkles his nose. "Hopefully Bella is good at math, it's not one of my best subjects."

I follow them over to one of the tables and Ben pulls out what looks like a workbook.

"Why don't you get going on that and let me know when you get stuck, okay?" Edward slides down into the seat and I sit beside him.

"So," I start.

"Kate is Ben's aunt, who he lives with." He smiles. "She brings him to see me about once a month. I usually try to help him with his homework."

"That's really sweet." I nod.

"I hope it doesn't tarnish my bad reputation." He winks at me.

"Um, excuse me. I'm trying to learn over here!" Ben protests, watching our exchange. "Isabella, can you help me?"

"Oh. Sure." I glance over at what he's working on. Multiplication tables. "Okay so you take each number here," I point to each digit. "And you multiply it by this number, and carry over any extra." I circle a few things and do an example. "So, what's three times four?"

"Twelve," Ben answers.

"Right." I smile. "Good. So, you put the two here, and carry the one over to this number."

Edward slings his arm around my shoulder and leans in. "Go on, Professor."

I help Ben with the rest of his worksheet. Then him and Edward talk about what Ben has been up to the past month, him playing baseball, and his first girlfriend, Sally.

"I don't know if you're allowed to have a girlfriend, are you sure you're old enough?" Edward asks.

"When did you have your first girlfriend?" Ben laughs.

"Not until I was twenty."

"But you're only eighteen!" Ben protests.

"Exactly. Even I'm not old enough."

Ben eyes me suspiciously.

"Ben, honey!" Kate calls, packing up her things. "We've got to go, you've got baseball practice in a bit!"

"Will you come see me play sometime?" Ben asks.

"Of course, buddy. I told you I would," Edward answers.

"I was asking Isabella," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Sure, I'd love to. Thanks for the invite." When he smiles, he reminds me so much of Edward.

"Bring it in." Edward stands and opens his arms so Ben can give him a hug as he walks them to the parking lot. "I'll call you about next month."

"Sounds good. Let's go, Ben." Kate pulls Ben away and they head toward the parking lot.

"Bye, Isabella!" Ben waves.

"Bye!" I lean back against the bike and watch them drive away.

"Ready?" Edward asks.

"Yeah." I slide the helmet on. "Hey?"

He glances up.

"Can we ride around for a bit?" I ask.

"As you wish."

We're on the road again and the sun is high in the sky above, trying to peek at us between the clouds. The roads are winding, twisting, turning as we ride.

I'm suddenly aware of him under my hands as they link around the front of him. I flatten my palms and, without thinking, wander up toward his chest.

"I like you, Edward Masen," I say, not knowing if he can ever hear me.

He doesn't react. We just fly over the pavement for another hour and then head back to town.

"I'm starving, you wanna eat?" He asks, coming to a stop at the light downtown.

"Sure."

He pulls into the diner and we head inside.

"Just sit anywhere," Heather shouts from behind the counter.

We slide into a booth, opposite each other, and both grab a menu.

"Thank you, for taking me with you today. Ben's really sweet," I say.

"Thanks for coming."

After we order, a loud group of teenagers burst through the door. I hold my breath, waiting for the onslaught. But it's not Jessica or Mike or anyone I know. They're from Edward's school.

"Edward!" A tall, blonde guy approaches the table and glances between us. "What are you doing, buddy?"

"Just grabbing some food, James. What trouble are you getting into?"

"Not as much as you apparently." James winks at me. "How ya doing, babe?"

This is uncomfortable. Edward clears his throat.

"Oh sorry, I'm probably not sophisticated enough for you, your Highness." He does a lousy curtsy, much to the delight of the group he's with.

"Knock it off," Edward snaps.

"Hey, hey. My bad. Enjoy the rest of your day, you two." He returns to his audience as our food arrives.

We eat mostly in silence. The good vibes and good feelings from earlier are just...gone.

"See?" He finally says. "Your friends aren't the only ones who are assholes. It goes both ways."

"What did you tell me?" I ask. "They don't matter."

"Yeah."

We finish eating and head out, desperate to break the funk we settled in over the past hour.

"Can I drive?" I ask.

"I'd like to keep all of my vital parts, thank you," he responds, instantly flipping a switch back to Edward. My Edward.

"Come on! I'm trying to branch out here."

"Okay. But only if we go slow and only to your house."

"Fine," I compromise.

We both throw our helmets on and he gives me a run down, allowing me to do a few practice rounds in the parking lot before we head out to the open road.

"Just remember, I'm right behind you." He slides onto the back and rests his hands on my hips. They feel at home there.

"You're a natural," he says in my ear as we go. I shiver, feeling his breath in my hair and on my skin. I want to lean back into him, fall into him, crash into him and just disappear.

When we pull up in front of my house, I want so badly to invite him inside.

Old Bella would never. Old Bella wouldn't dream of it.

"I have to admit," he says, turning off the bike and setting our helmets on the seat. "Watching you drive, was...really, really sexy." He smirks.

And just like that, Old Bella doesn't live here anymore.

"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" I ask, unlocking the front door and pushing it open.

"Scandalous," he teases, starting toward me. "Of course." When he's passing in front of me, he slows, leaning in. "And just for the record. I like you too, Bella Swan."

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Fancy place you got here…" Edward says from the living room as I get us both a glass of water.

"Thanks, I built it myself," I joke.

"Your talents continue to amaze me."

When I get into the living room, he's perched in front of our fireplace, several of my pageant photos framed on the mantel.

"How many of these things have you done?" He asks.

"Like...ever?" I set his glass of water down on the table.

"Yeah."

"I think last count was over one hundred since I was little."

He turns, his eyes wide. "A hundred? You're shitting me?"

"Am not." I smile. "My mom started me when I was barely old enough to walk."

"That's...a lot. Do you ever get tired of being perfect all the time?"

The weight of his question hits hard.

"Yes," I answer honestly. "I just do it to please Momma."

"Why?" He settles down beside me.

"Because when my parents split up, I guess…" I trail off. "I guess I thought it was something I had control over, but now it's completely out of control and all about her and not me. And I got comfortable being uncomfortable just to keep her happy."

"Fuck her, Bella." He shakes his head. "I mean I know she's your mom, I get that. But you're not responsible for her happiness or even your dad's happiness. Especially when it's making you so unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy," I shoot back even though I know it's a lie. I nod. "This was the big one for some reason in her book because it was the last one she won herself before she met my dad."

"And had you?"

"And had me." I lean back and rest my head on the back of the couch. "Sometimes I think she resents me because she didn't get to do everything she wanted to and go everywhere she wanted to. Because of me. And maybe I feel a little guilty about that."

"Where would _you_ go if you could go anywhere?"

I close my eyes and imagine I'm on an airplane. Where do I land?

"Europe?" I answer. "London. Paris, maybe?"

"You should go," he says.

"Where? To Europe?" I laugh.

"Yeah. Or wherever the Hell you want to go. There's way too much world out there for you to get stuck here living someone else's dream."

"How are you so strong? Huh?" I rest my hand on his knee. "You aren't scared of anything."

"I appreciate the confidence, but I'm scared of a lot of things."

"Oh really," I tease. "Like what?"

"You scare the shit out of me."

"Me?!" I almost laugh. Little me scares Edward Masen? "Why?"

"Because you're one of the only people that gave a damn about seeing past what everyone else thinks of me."

"And that's scary."

"I mean, yeah." He runs his fingers through his hair. "I guess as much as I hated the bad boy title, I also hid behind it a little bit. Can't hide with you."

"That makes two of us."

A long moment passes before either of us speak again. I feel warm and have chills at the same time. Vulnerability isn't something I'm used to. I can prance around on stage in front of a hundred people but being alone with him is completely different.

"I could use something a little stronger than water," I mumble. "Do you want something?"

"You breaking into your mom's stash? Rebel."

"She's mostly only got wine." I take his glass and head to the kitchen. "I don't do it a lot but she's got enough bottles that she doesn't notice."

I pull one from the bottles and pour us both a glass. When I turn, I realize he's right behind me and pull a total Bella. There's wine all over him and not a drop on me.

"Hmmm…" He looks down at his shirt. "Not really how I prefer to drink my wine, but it will do."

"I'm so sorry." I set the glasses down. "I'm such an idiot."

"It's not a big deal."

"I probably have a shirt you can wear, just a sec." I pass him and head upstairs to my bedroom.

I search through my drawers, looking for a sleep shirt or something that might fit him. I pull one out from the bottom of a pile.

"Nice room," Edward says, behind me.

I turn and find him in the doorway holding our two refilled glasses, the rest of the bottle, and a new one.

"Oh, hi." I wring the shirt through my hands.

"Hi." He smiles. "Is this okay?" He gestures around.

"Yeah, it's fine. Here's a shirt for you." I hand it to him and he hands me my glass.

"Thanks." He sets his down on my desk and pulls his shirt over his head.

I take a long sip of wine. I've seen him shirtless before but it might as well have been the first time. The muscles in his back flex as he lifts my shirt up and on.

"Pinehurst Academy, huh?" He looks down at the front. "Never thought I'd wear one of these."

"Looks good on you."

His eyes drift over my head to a shelf with some of my crowns. "Look at those."

I roll my eyes and laugh.

"Can I get a show?" He asks.

"Huh?"

He sits down on the edge of my bed, downs his glass, and pours another.

"I'm doing recon for Rosalie so she knows what her competition looks like. I just need to see what we're working with here."

Maybe it's the wine or just him, but for some reason I agree to his ridiculous request.

I pour myself more wine, grab a crown from the shelf, and a dress and a sash from the closet and scurry into the bathroom.

I pull my hair back into a loose bun and throw on some red lipstick before I slip into the dress I wore a year ago at another pageant. I drape the sash over my shoulder and place the crown on my head, and look into the mirror.

I'm a little buzzed. Wine always gets to me more than anything else.

I take a deep breath and step into the hallway.

"Can I get some music please?" I call.

I hear him fumble around and then a soft melody.

I round the corner, leading with my bare leg peeking out of the slit of my dress.

He whistles at me as I stride gracefully into my room and across the floor, waving to the imaginary audience. He leans back onto his elbows as I come to stand in front of him.

"What do you want, Isabella Swan?" He asks.

"World peace?" Is this a trick question?

I step forward, and take the crown from my head to place it on his. "What do you want, Edward Masen?"

He gently grabs my forearm before I can pull it back. He traces up my arm and to my shoulder, and down my side.

"I want you."

I want him, too.

I lean forward, resting my knees on the bed on either side of him, and fall into his lap.

"And…" He brushes a stray piece of hair away from my cheek. "I really…really…" He lowers his voice as his nose touches mine. "Want to wreck your lipstick."

He presses his lips to mine and I melt into him. He grips my hips and flips me over onto the bed, the crown on his head long gone with my inhibitions.

I kiss him with everything I have, nipping at his lips. His hand lowers to my leg, up the slit of my dress, until he pulls it up and around him.

This isn't like me. Or maybe it is. He makes me...want things, want him in a way I've never wanted before. And I've never felt more alive.

I slip my hand beneath his shirt, my shirt, and feel his skin. I dance across his stomach and his chest, warm under my fingers. I feel his heart beating fast, matching my own.

He gently pushes the strap of my dress down my arm and kisses my neck and my shoulder. I want him to kiss me everywhere.

Then my phone rings. I ignore it and let it go to voicemail. But then, whoever it is calls back.

"Maybe you should get that," Edward whispers, kissing me again.

I ignore it again. And it rings again.

"Ugh." I sigh, reaching for my phone beside us. "It's my mom."

"Does she have some special kind of radar that tells her when to fuck up your day?" He laughs.

"I would not be surprised." I hold up a finger to his lips telling him to be quiet. "Hi, Momma."

"Isabella. What were you doing, why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was...blow drying my hair."

Edward leans down and kisses my neck again, swirling his tongue over my collarbone.

"Drying your hair?"

"Mmmhmmm." I close my eyes.

"Have you been practicing?" She asks.

"Yes." It's not a lie, right?

"Okay, well don't stay up too late."

"Okay, Momma, I won't. Have fun." I hang up before she says goodbye.

"I should probably go," Edward says, kissing me again.

"What? Why?" I ask.

"I don't want to lose control with you."

"Why the Hell not?!" I snap back.

"Because your mom is crazy and your dad could throw me in jail."

I smirk. "Fair enough."

He texts Rosalie to come get him. "I'll get the bike in the morning."

"Okay."

We lay next to each other until Rosalie pulls up in front of the house and lays on her horn. Subtle.

I follow him downstairs and linger at the front door.

"Sure I can't convince you to stay?" I ask.

"You could convince me of anything you wanted to, Swan." He leans down and kisses me again. "See ya."

He saunters away from the house, a little wobbly. I smile watching him walk away, leaning against the door, my entire body missing him the moment he was gone. He hops in the car and they speed away.

I sleep like a dream. And when I wake up the next morning, his bike is gone, and there's a single flower on my front porch.

I lean down and pick it up, unable to contain a smile.

_Lord, help me_. If I'm falling for the devil, this sure is the most beautiful way to burn.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope everyone is staying safe!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I relish Sunday before Momma comes home, planning for Spirit Week coming up before our Homecoming game against Greystone.

My school pretty much treats this pageant like it's their own, so instead of a Homecoming Court, they offer to "host" us at the game. It's really just a way of parading their money and influence in town. Most of the girls who enter and almost everyone who wins is from my school. It's just the way it is.

I'm on the phone with Edward late Sunday night, whispering after Momma went to bed, and fall asleep with it on my pillow.

Monday morning I wake up late, which is so unlike me. Thankfully it's Pajama Day, so I don't need to do much to get ready.

When I get to school, I throw my bag over my shoulder and run inside.

The hallway is still bustling with people, but I swear the moment I walk in, the crowd lulls into hushed tones. Eyes follow me as I make my way to my locker and I feel smaller and smaller as I go.

My heart stops when I see my locker, and I know why they're all staring at me. They're waiting for my reaction.

_SLUT _and _DUMPSTER DIVER _are scribbled across in thick, black marker.

I don't breathe. I don't move. Tears start to sting my eyes, but I push them back. I push it all back.

I hear a snicker behind me, and find Mike and Jessica huddled with a small group across the hall. It all makes sense now. Mike lives a few houses down from me. He must have seen Edward leave my house. I guess at this point I should be thankful it hasn't gotten back to Momma, but it could still happen.

As I fight the hurt, the humiliation, another emotion rears its head. Anger.

I throw my bag down on the ground and rummage around for a sharpie. I know I must look crazy, drawing on my own locker beside those words. If they want to label me, I might as well add everything else I know they've called me.

_Bitch. Priss. Conceited. Prude. _Looks strange sitting next to _Slut _but all of it is bullshit. It's only what they think of me. Not me. Not really.

"Bad, bad girl, Isabella," Mike hisses.

"Fuck off," I pick up my bag again and head back toward the door, the entire senior class an audience.

I jump in my car and drive. I don't go home or to my dad's place. I find myself sitting outside of Edward's school.

_Hi, _I text.

_Rebel Bella, texting at school? ;), _he replies.

_Can you meet me? I'm outside. I'll wait. _

_What's wrong?_

_I'll explain._

I put my phone down and expect to have to wait until next period, or when he has study hour. I'm surprised to see him walking out of the front door, barely five minutes later.

I didn't think I was going to cry, but the moment he slide inside the car I collapse into him, sobbing.

"Bella…" He holds me, unaware of what or why I'm an absolute mess. "We should go somewhere…Let me drive."

He gets out of the car and walks around to the driver's side as I scoot over. He doesn't ask me any questions or make me talk, we just drive for a little bit, him holding my hand and holding me together all at once.

We end up at the park, normally bustling on the weekends, completely empty right now. And we just sit. For a long time.

"They wrote on my locker," I finally say. "Horrible things. Everyone saw and…"

"What?"

"Mike must have seen you leaving my house this weekend. They, they called me a slut."

His hand grips the wheel so tight, his knuckles nearly turn white.

"I just had to get out of there, I'm sorry, I didn't know where to go," I say.

"Don't apologize." He rests his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. "I'm here."

"The worst part is I need to go back." I wipe my eyes. "I have a test today and it's Pajama Day and…"

"It's what?"

"Pajama Day. Spirit Week. I have obligations being a member of the pageant."

"You mean you get to wear pajamas to school and not get in trouble?"

I nod.

"Fuck, I'm going to the wrong school." He smiles and leans down to kiss my head. "You sure you want to go back?"

"Yeah." _Do I want to? No. Do I know that I need to? Yes. _"I can take you back, I'm sure your study hour is almost over."

"I don't have study hour."

"What?" I sit back. "How did you leave?"

"I...got up out of my desk and walked out?"

"Edward! Aren't you going to get in trouble?"

"Probably," he shrugs. "You needed me. It was a no questions asked kind of thing."

"Was it, now?" I move closer to him and tilt my lips up to meet his.

"If that's what I'm going to get for skipping class, I should do it more often."

We drive back to his school and I drop him off.

"Hey, remember. They don't matter."

"I know. I'll call you later." I pull away, leaving him on the curb.

When I get back to school, I avoid my locker and head straight to class.

I eat lunch alone.

I spend time between classes hidden in the bathroom to keep away from the stares.

On the last break before the end of the day, I'm closed in a stall when I hear the door open.

"It's not right, Jess," Angela says, more forceful than I've ever heard her speak. "You know it's not." I can barely see them through the gap in the door.

"She's made her choice," Jessica responds, stopping in front of the mirror to check her makeup.

"And she deserves this for it?"

"There are rules around here, Ang. A Pinehurst girl going with someone like him? It's disgusting."

"I don't want any part of this anymore. Isabella is our friend."

"Fine." Jessica looks her up and down. "Guess you've made your choice too." She's trying to bully her. I've been on the wrong end of that stare before. It makes you cower.

"Guess I have."

Jessica scoffs and the door squeaks as she leaves. Angela lingers behind, probably trying to prepare herself for whatever Hell she's just unleashed on herself.

I slowly step out of the stall.

"Oh!" Angela starts. "I didn't know you were in there."

"Better than spending the breaks out there," I laugh nervously and look down at my feet. "It's a hard hallway to walk down today."

"Isabella, I'm so sorry. I should have stood up to them, I don't think any of those things about you. Can you ever forgive me?" She throws her arms around me.

Can I forgive her? Part of me wants to tell her no. The other part knows any ally I can have in this school right now is a win for me. She'll need me just as much as I need her. And so as much as my head wants me to push her away, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and smile. "Forgiven."

I make it to my last class just in time and take my test, and when I'm done all I want to do is leave.

"Isabella Swan," my teacher calls, as the minutes tick down to the last bell. "They need you for the Spirit Day photo in the gym."

Positives: I can get out of this class and hopefully avoid the crowd that's about to fill the hallways. Negatives: Jessica. That's it.

I grab my things and head toward the gym, going the long way around to avoid my locker.

"Isabella! Come, come!" Mrs. Webber greets me, the last to arrive. I notice Rosalie isn't here of course, but that doesn't seem to bother anyone but me. A Pinehurst girl always wins. No one else exists. "Why don't you stand next to Jessica?"

I begrudgingly take my place, my entire body tingling with absolute distaste for the person next to me.

Jessica sniffs and turns briefly toward me. "Ew, what's that smell, Isabella? Is that garbage?" She asks, her voice low but condescending all the same.

"Probably your twat, Jessica." I smile big as the camera flashes.

I grab my bag again and make the walk back to my locker. The hallways that usually empty pretty quickly after the day is over, are still filled with people.

"Did you see him?" One girl asks another. "I can't believe he's here."

A small group is gathered close to my locker and I dread the thought of having to push through them.

"Excuse me," I mumble, stepping around them.

Once I see what they're crowded around, I stop.

Edward is on his knees in front of my locker, bucket of soapy water beside him, scrubbing the marker off my locker. Those words, so harsh and hurtful, are already faded. He's erased them in more ways than one.

"What is the meaning of all this, school's over, people!" Principal Teddy pushes through. "Young man, you don't attend this school." He huffs. Everyone knows Edward, unfortunately. "I need to ask you to leave."

"I'm not done yet," Edward says, working on the last bit of marker.

"Young man. You are done. Leave immediately or I will call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

Edward throws the rag into the bucket and stands. "You should teach your students that art belongs in a studio and not on my girl's locker. As long as it doesn't happen again, I won't be back, capiche?" He leans down and kisses me.

The crowd parts for him and he walks away.

"Show's over, let's get going everyone!" Principal Teddy claps his hands and everyone disperses, leaving me alone.

I open my newly cleaned locker and slide my books inside before heading out to my car. I drive right over to his house and find him working in his garage.

I linger in my car, watching him work. When he notices me, he walks to my car and sits in the passenger seat.

I grab his hand and hold it close my heart. "You're a good person, Edward Masen."

"Don't tell anyone." He smiles.

I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Thank you," I whisper, moving my lips across his skin and down to his lips. They part and I taste him, all of him.

His hand falls from mine and finds my thigh, gripping and pulling me toward him until I'm in his lap, straddling him in the seat.

The world around us falls away, and it's nothing but me and him and my body against his. Every inch of me feeling like it could burst into flame at any moment.

He runs his fingers through my hair, grabbing a fistful and gently pulling my head back, exposing my neck. He devours it, biting and kissing and tasting my skin. I wish I could melt into him, just disappear until I only see and feel and want him.

I push my hips against his and he groans, hands traveling up to my chest.

I don't feel like me. Not the girl I used to be. I feel grown. I feel like a woman. I feel...wanted. And wanting.

For a moment, I forget where we are, until a knock at the window reminds me. Even though I would have been embarrassed regardless, the person standing at the window is the second to last person I want to see there.

I sit back on Edward's legs and straighten my shirt, as Edward rolls down the window.

"Chief," he nods, wiping at his lips.

"Are you finished?" Charlie snaps.

Edward smirks. I know that look. He's about to make a joke and granted Charlie's question, I couldn't let him say whatever he was about to say. I put my hand over his mouth as he starts to talk.

By Charlie's annoyance, I can tell he had a good idea of what Edward was about to say. "Bella," he huffs. "House." He points back to his house. "Now."

I crawl back over to the driver's side and Edward exits, throwing Charlie a salute before heading back into the garage.

I wish I could have made the drive across the road to my dad's driveway last longer. Because I wasn't sure that I was ready to have the conversation we were about to have.

He could ruin my world with one word to my mom about what he saw. And I hope with everything I have that he won't.

So I park the car, skip up the front porch steps, and after a moment's pause at the door, walk inside.

* * *

**A/N: ****Apologies for the small break, got a little busy! Hope everyone is staying safe!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

I find him in the kitchen, sitting at one end of the table sipping coffee. He gestures to the other chair and I slide down, trying to think of the best way to handle this.

It's embarrassing that my dad caught me basically dry humping someone in the driveway. The fact that it was Edward, the "town trouble maker", sure doesn't help.

"Bella…" Charlie starts.

"Dad," I nod, folding my hands together on the table top.

"I want you to know this is not about Edward."

"But it is, isn't it?" I interrupt. "Would you be as pissed as you are right now if I was in that car with Mike?"

"First of all, yes." He sets down his coffee cup. "Because you're my daughter and I don't care to see...those things." He waves his hand errantly. "And second of all, I don't dislike the kid. He got dealt a bad hand. Has he made the best decisions every day, no. But I don't think he's a bad guy, Bella, I really don't."

"Everyone else does," I argue.

"You're right. They do. And it's a super shitty thing to do to an eighteen-year-old kid, sentencing them to a life of being a bad egg when they don't even know the whole story."

"Do you...know the whole story?"

"I do. And I know Carlisle has been working his ass off trying to get Edward taken care of so this thing doesn't follow him around for the rest of his life."

"So, why are you against me being around him?"

He pauses. "Listen, Bella. You're basically an adult. You're smart, you're beautiful, and I know you make good choices and will do amazing things with your life. There are just...dynamics in parenting that are unavoidable. Your mom had custody of you. Pretty soon you'll be able to live on your own and maybe none of this will matter anymore, but I know what she thinks of him and well. If she knew you were hanging out or hooking up or whatever you call it these days, she'd throw a fit about you coming over here and I...didn't want to lose what little time I have left with my baby girl and I didn't want your relationship with her to be difficult. She's your mom."

"Dad." I pick at my fingers. "If I could have chosen...it would have been you a thousand times over."

I imagine what my life would have been like growing up living with my dad. Baseball and dirt. Warmed up microwave dinners. Beat up old truck. Sounds like Heaven on Earth.

"Bella, I trust you."

"So, you're not going to tell her?"

"I'm not going to tell her," he says. "But can you keep your...activities a little more private. I'm not stupid, I know what kids are doing these days, I just don't want to see it."

"Sorry." I blush.

"Are you being safe at least?"

"Dad!" I protest.

"Okay, okay."

"You coming to the game Friday?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Of course. Have I ever missed one of your, pageant things?" He waves his hand.

"It's just an appearance," I joke.

"I'll be there." He downs the rest of his coffee and slides his hat back on. "I'm heading back in for another shift, just stopped by for a break." He leans down and kisses my head. "Love you, kid."

"Love you, Dad."

Ten minutes after he leaves, there's a knock on the door.

"I'm glad to see he didn't lock you in your room," Edward says, leaning against the door. "Was it bad?"

"Actually. No. And it's not like you haven't crawled in my bedroom window before."

"True." He raises his eyebrows, asking the question he's too scared to say out loud.

"He's not going to tell my mom," I answer.

"That's a relief. At least it was him and not her."

That gets me thinking. What happens when it _is_ her? I don't know what this, this thing with us, is, but I know it's not just a fling. What happens when it gets serious? Is it already on its way?

I study Edward, still standing in the doorway. I imagine bringing him to dinner at Momma's house. Us sitting down at the dining room table to have a meal.

I invite him in and we end up on the couch, sitting close but just far enough like we know our limits. Too close isn't safe. Just like a flame to a firecracker, it might cause a spark. It might cause a fire. And this time Charlie isn't here to interrupt.

He reaches across the small divide and grabs my hand, playing with my fingers.

"What are you doing Friday?" He asks, running his finger over a small freckle on the back of my hand.

"Um, we have the Homecoming Game event."

"Oh, that's right." He nods. "Do you think you're going to win?"

"Do you think I care about the game?" I joke.

"Not really," he smirks, bringing my hand up to his lips. "Probably not a good idea for me to come, huh?"

Would I love to see him there? Absolutely. Is it just going to cause more problems? Also absolutely.

"I'll send you a picture," I say, reassuringly.

"Scandalous, Bella Swan."

"Not...that kind of picture."

We sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I should get home," Edward says. "Carlisle is making spaghetti, it's like a...family...thing."

"Edward Masen, excited to do a family thing? Are you turning over a new leaf?"

"It's really good spaghetti." He leans over and presses his lips against mine. "Call you later."

After he leaves, I read up on a few chapters for school, and when Charlie comes home again, it's like nothing has changed. I'm his Bella. And he's my dad.

Friday comes quickly, and the next thing I know, I'm at the hair salon getting my hair done for the game. I insisted to Momma that it wasn't necessary to get it done for every single thing, but her insisting won out. This time.

"Are you so excited?" The stylist asks, putting the final touches on.

"She's ecstatic," Momma answers just as I open my mouth.

"I can answer for myself," I snap.

"Ooo." She fakes concern. "Attitude, honey. Are you about to start your period?"

I blush, shrink into the seat, and wish I could fall into a deep, dark hole.

"Does she have the most lovely hair?" Momma says, oblivious to my embarrassment and how inappropriate her question was. "She was made to have long hair, I swear if she ever cuts it, I'll be beside myself."

"It is lovely," the stylist says, pulling the cape off me.

"Now, we've got makeup next, Isabella. Are we on schedule?"

"Yes, Momma." I rise, completely deflated.

We make it back to my house with about an hour to spare before I need to be at the field. Momma sprays another whole can of hair spray on my head and tells me to get dressed.

I pull the light blue dress up over my hips and slide the skinny straps onto my shoulders. Sequins cover the entire thing, and the way it glints in the light makes me think of the ocean on a sunny day. I glance outside, it's anything but sunny. In fact, it's cold and miserable. And I'm going to be cold and miserable in this thing.

I head downstairs and grab a jacket as I start toward the door.

"Oh, honey. That jacket doesn't go with that dress," Momma says, peeking her head around the corner.

"It's freezing outside." I look down at my dress.

"Oh, it's only for a little bit." She brushes me off. "Just make sure you leave it in the car. I'll see you there, remember to smile." She leaves without another word. Not a "You look beautiful, Bella." or "Good luck."

I slide into my truck and make my way to the field. I don't realize I'm crying until I get there.

"Damn it." I flip my mirror down and check my makeup. Little blurry around the eyes, but thankfully no mascara lines. I wipe carefully, take a few breaths, and hop out.

I find the group easily, right before you go up into the bleachers. It's hard to miss a group of beauty queens in a crowd.

"Isabella, welcome!" Mrs Weber checks my name off her list. "That's everyone." She claps to get our attention. "Okay, ladies. We will be seated in the middle bleacher section, first two rows. Two minutes before halftime we will make our way under the bleachers to the tunnel, where they will announce us."

I shiver, thinking about sitting outside in the night air.

She directs us to our bleachers and I sit next to Rosalie, because none of the other girls will.

"You look really nice, Rose," I tell her.

"Thank you."

The stadium fills up quickly. I spot my dad, sitting with a few of his friends. I wave to him and he smiles. Momma and her gang are right behind us, gossiping loudly and snapping pictures every few minutes.

The first half is painstakingly slow. Probably because I'm freezing my ass off. All of the other girls at least have a shawl around them. But not me. I have to be the shiny penny.

I'm the first to rise when it hits two minutes to halftime, excited to just get out of the wind for a few minutes. We huddle at the entrance of the tunnel as the clock winds down.

The football team runs by us, with a few catcalls and whistles that I ignore. The band performs a short number, and then Mrs. Weber steps out into the field holding a microphone.

"Hello Pinehurst Academy! My name is Terri Weber and I am the President of the Miss Americana Pageant. Our event is coming up on November 2nd and we hope you'll join us for a night of glitz and glam. We have some incredibly talented girls this year. And I'd like to introduce them to you now."

I line up last just to keep myself sheltered for as long as possible. She calls each of the girls, and when she gets to me, I take a deep breath and put on the brightest smile.

"Isabella Swan!" My name echoes. I step out and instantly feel eyes on me. I reach up my hand to wave to the crowd, playing the part perfectly. Then something throws me off. Or rather someone.

A loud, obnoxious whistle comes from the other side of the field, at the fence where people usually go to smoke pot. Edward and a small group of boys are at the fence hooting and hollering.

I force my eyes forward again, panicked and happy at the same time. He came.

Mrs. Weber says a few more words, we take some photos for the paper, and we're released to go back to our seats. Instead, I head to the bathroom, hoping to run my hands under some hot water.

As I'm about to open the bathroom door, a short, quick whistle startles me. I look toward the shadows under the bleachers and see his figure.

I check to make sure no one is looking and scurry over to meet him in the darkness.

"What are you doing here, you could get caught!" I whisper, clutching for him. He's warm and all I want is to lose myself in him.

"Worth it to see you look as beautiful as you do right now." I feel him kiss my forehead and I smile.

"You can barely even see me right now," I mumble.

"Probably a good thing, you might make me go crazy." He runs his hands up and down my arms. "You're freezing."

"My mom wouldn't let me wear a coat in."

"What the fuck? It's like forty degrees out," he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket and putting it around my shoulders. "Take this."

"I can't wear this, Edward, you know that." I lean forward and press my head into his chest.

Voices coming toward us startle me and I immediately shrug off the jacket and take a step back.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Mike fakes sincerity and fails miserably. "Did I interrupt?"

"Leave us alone, Mike," I say.

"No. I don't think I will." Mike steps toward Edward but I block his path. "Wow. You're in deeper than I thought, Swan. Too bad I didn't get to have you before he got you dirty."

Now, I'm holding Edward back. "Please," I beg, gripping his shirt. "It's not worth it."

"Fine," he huffs.

"Just go back to your friends, okay. I'll call you later." I hand him back his jacket and stand between him and Mike until they go their respective ways. I head back up to the bleachers to wait out the rest of the game.

It's nearly over when something catches my eye. A group of guys, led by Mike, making their way around the outside of the field toward the area where Edward and his friends are.

"No, no, no," I whisper, watching them get closer.

Edward and his crew stand as they approach. It's too far for me to understand what's being said, but it looks tense and I don't know what to do. _What do I do?_ I search for my dad in the crowd, thinking maybe he can help, but he's engrossed in conversation.

_Fuck. _This is not going to end well.

Mike pushes Edward back, and next thing I see is Edward launching himself into Mike, both of them falling to the ground.

I shoot out of my seat, at the same time as everyone else because we just scored a touchdown.

The two groups are at each other's throats, in a full out brawl. The rest of the crowd finally notices, and there's a chorus of gasps and pointing and yelling.

I catch my dad's eyes and mouth "Help". He leaps out of his seat, grabs the couple of security guards and they run toward the fight.

My heart is beating a mile a minute. In the mix of bodies, I can't tell who is who and what is what.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we're going to ask that everyone vacate the stadium in a quick and safe fashion," a voice comes over the loud speaker.

The murmurs start again as everyone watches my dad and the guards break it up. I'm pulled up and out of my seat by my mom as the crowd funnels toward the exit. But I don't want to go. I need to know he's okay.

"What an absolute disgrace," she mutters, clenching my arm so tight that it probably would hurt if it wasn't numb. "I don't know why those boys were here anyway, they don't go to these schools."

_They were here because of me. _This is my fault.

"They weren't the only ones fighting," I remind her.

"Well, I highly doubt our boys started it."

I shake my head and break away from her. "I'll see you at home."

"I'm going to stop at Terri's for a minute," she says, but I barely hear her. I'm too worried.

I wait at my car, pacing back and forth as the parking lot clears out. _Where is he?_

I try calling him. I try calling my dad. Nobody answers.

My heart drops when I see an ambulance with its lights on round the corner and drive into the stadium. Then, a twig snaps in the trees beside my car.

"Bella," Edward calls.

"Oh, God." I rush toward him.

"I'm fine," he says, putting his hands up.

"You are...not fine." He's got a swollen lip, nasty cut above his eye, and the beginnings of a black eye.

"Your dad grabbed me and took me out of the back exit."

I sigh. _Thanks, Dad._

"We need to get you fixed up." I brush my fingers over his face.

"Carlisle's going to kill me," he jokes.

I contemplate. "Come home with me."

"But your mom…"

"Won't be home for a little bit." I open the passenger door for him and usher him in.

Once we get to my house, I double check to make sure my mom isn't home and lead him up to my room. I don't even think twice, strip the dress off, and throw some pajamas on.

"I never thought the first time I'd see you with your clothes off, I'd only be able to see out of one eye. What a rip off," Edward teases.

"Still full of jokes I see." I still had a bra and underwear on. "Stay here."

I head to the bathroom and grab some first aid stuff, and steal a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen.

"Put this on your eye," I say, handing him the peas.

"Yes, ma'am." He obeys.

I take a look at his other injuries and wince. "I'm so sorry." I dab at his lip.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because of Mike. It was my fault."

"Hey." He grabs my wrist. "I'd take a million and one punches for you." He smiles. "And it wasn't your fault. It was mine. I knew it was a risk going."

I hear the front door close.

"Isabella!" Momma calls.

"Stay quiet." I step out into the hallway and close my bedroom door behind me. If I go talk to her now, she's less likely to try and come in my room.

"Did you speak to your father, did they get everything under control?" She asks, hanging up her coat.

"All under control," I say. I yawn, big and loud, and rub at my eyes. "I'm really tired, Momma, I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay, honey." She sorts through the mail. "Want to join for my Pilates tomorrow morning?"

"Uh, I would but Angela and I are...going shopping."

She nods as I head back upstairs. I slip inside my room and slide the lock into place.

Edward is laying on my bed with the bag of peas over his eye.

I sit at my vanity and start taking the million bobby pins out of my hair.

"How many are you hiding in there?" He asks softly.

"Too many. Gives me such a headache." I glance at him in the mirror as I keep working, tendrils falling with each one.

He stands and comes behind me, throwing the bag back on the bed. His fingers search through my hair, pulling out pin after pin. And when they're all gone, he runs them through the curls, shaking everything out.

I close my eyes and lean back. "That feels good."

He brings his lips down close to my ear. "You're so fucking gorgeous." They brush against my cheek.

"My mom always talks on and on about my hair. Like it's my one true beauty and she'd just die if I ever cut."

"You should cut it."

"What?" I whip around.

"I mean, only if you want to. That's the point, it's your hair."

"Don't guys like their girlfriends to have long hair?" I ask, straddling my chair.

"I don't care how long it is as long as you let me run my fingers through it." He steps back and cocks an eyebrow. "Did you just call yourself my girlfriend?"

"No," I say. "It was just...a generalization." I turn back to my mirror and wipe my makeup off. "Will you stay?"

"There's no place I'd rather be other than your bed."

I blush. He kicks his shoes off as I crawl into bed. He brings the peas back up to his eye and lays his free arm over my waist.

"Could you turn the light off...peas?" He giggles behind me as I roll my eyes and switch off the lamp.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Edward during the day is amazing. Edward at night is captivating. But Edward in the morning? My God, he's a masterpiece.

I sigh.

He's still asleep, laying next to me as the sun shines through my window and onto his hair. Dashes of gold and bronze weave together in a beautiful mess. I reach out and brush my fingers through it.

I heard Momma leave about a half hour ago for her pilates class, which means she'll be gone for at least another couple of hours. Pilates Class usually means the actual class plus brunch after with her group. The bottomless mimosas will keep her occupied for awhile, but I still want to be careful. Edward can't be anywhere near here when she gets back or all Hell will break loose. I can just imagine the look on her face walking in here and finding her daughter in bed with...

"Stop it," Edward murmurs, his eyes barely open.

"What?"

"Whatever it is you're overthinking. Just...be here with me." He rests his arm over my waist and pulls me close.

"What are we going to do?" I say, trying my best to ignore the what ifs and the whens, but I can't.

"About what?"

"Seriously?" I pull back. "About this, about us?"

"Why do we have to have a plan? Aren't you sick of your life being planned out for you?"

"I mean…" I think for a few moments. The unknown is such a foreign feeling to me. It should scare me. And it does a little. But if that unknown involves him in any way, whatever it is, I want it. "Yes. I'm sick of it."

He leans over and kisses me, rolling forward and on top of me as I sink down into the bed. "Pretty scandalous to have a boy stay over behind your mom's back, Swan."

"First time for everything." I laugh nervously.

"First time? Wow, I'm honored."

"Lots of firsts." I nod.

"Who was your first crush?" He asks, hovering over me.

"Tyler Crowley in second grade. We sat together on the bus." I smile. "What about you?"

"Tanya Denali. I moved away when we were about nine."

"Broke her heart, I'm sure."

"Oh, she was devastated." He glances at my lips and kisses me again, longer and softer. "First kiss?"

I freeze and he notices.

"What?" He pushes himself up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." I grimace.

We stare at each other for a few moments until it hits him.

"Fucking Mike Newton. Wasn't it?"

My non-answer answers his question. "Sorry."

"It's you I feel sorry for that your first kiss will always be with that piece of…"

"Make me forget."

The next time he kisses me, I imagine it as not just my first kiss, but the first kiss in history in all its perfection. Urgent, but soft. Deep enough to set my heart and my stomach and my everywhere fluttering. When Edward kisses me, I can't imagine anything or anyone before this.

I picture his lips fluttering past my own, and down to my neck. I picture his hands strong on my breasts and his hips flush against mine. And like the mind reader he is, he follows instructions very well.

_Make me forget. Make me._

He answers again, fervently reaching for the hem of my shirt. "Is this okay?"

I sit up and pull my own shirt up over my head, tossing it to the side of my bed.

He smirks and dips to my navel, swirling his tongue across my skin as he travels north. My body erupts in goosebumps as his lips reach my breast. This feels different than anything before. I don't feel like a piece of meat. I don't feel man-handled. I feel...loved. And wanted.

I bite my lip and lean my head back, closing my eyes. "Fuck," I moan.

He returns to my lips and our hands lock. I guide them down, past my chest, past my stomach, down to the waistband of my sweatpants, and dip inside. I leave his there, pushing my hips into his palm, asking him to touch me like I want to be touched.

He's light at first, circling softly on the fabric of my underwear.

His breath is on my cheek, his hair falls forward and tickles my skin.

I feel lightheaded and drunk, in the best way. A fuzziness and a clarity all at the same time.

When he finally slides his fingers inside me, he groans, deep from the pit of his chest.

I arch my back, throwing my head back into the pillow.

"You like that?" He asks.

"Yes," I say, breathless and begging. "Don't stop…"

I come hard, my body goes stiff and feels like jelly at the same time. No one before Edward even exists, and I forget everything but his name and the feeling of him touching me, kissing me, loving me.

"You're amazing," he says, placing a kiss on my cheek.

"You're not so bad yourself," I joke, out of breath and grinning like a fool.

I hear the front door close downstairs and my heart stops. It's too early. She shouldn't be home yet.

"Shit." I shoot up and scramble out of bed. "You have to go."

Footsteps on the stairs.

He jumps out of bed.

Twist of the doorknob.

He drops to the floor.

"Oh! Miss Isabella!" Our housekeeper, Kaure, is surprised to see me when she opens the door. "I'm so sorry. I thought your mother said you had pilates this morning."

"It's okay, it's okay," I stutter, glancing toward the other side of the bed, knowing he's still there. "Give me an hour, okay?"

"Okay." She smiles. "Have a good day." She nods and closes the door behind her.

I count to five and then go to find him. He's laying flat on his back, scrunched up as close to the bed as possible.

"It's just our housekeeper."

"Yeah, got that. Just waiting for my heart to stop pounding." He takes a deep breath.

I smile and bend down, placing my knees on either side of him to straddle his waist.

"That doesn't help," he says.

"Does my Mom...scare you?" I joke.

"Not in the slightest."

"Is that so?" I laugh. I lean down and kiss him. "Well, I still think it's probably a good idea to get out of here so she doesn't see you."

We scramble to our feet and he grabs his jacket. "Oh. Ben wanted me to ask you if you would come to his game tomorrow."

"He did?" I smile. "What time?"

"Starts at 2. It's only fifteen minutes from here."

"Count me in." I slowly open my bedroom door and peek outside. "Coast is clear, I hear her singing in the bathroom."

"Pick you up at your dad's at 1:30?"

"Sounds like a plan." I kiss him and he quietly heads down stairs and out the door.

I get dressed and spend the next couple of hours finishing some homework. Momma comes home buzzed and talkative.

"What'd you get?" She asks.

"What?"

"Shopping. What did you get?"

Oh, right. My alibi. I went shopping. "I didn't find anything." I smile sadly and shrug.

"Miss Isabella?" Kaure steps into the kitchen. "I found these peas in your room?" She holds up the now thawed bag of peas.

"Peas?" Momma asks. "What on Earth were you doing with peas?"

"Oh, I...twisted my ankle a little bit last night, just wanted to ice it to be safe."

"Good thinking." She grabs a glass of water and heads upstairs. "I'm going to take a shower, then let's practice your talent routine." She glances at me again. "Did you go out with your hair and makeup like that?"

I don't answer. I just cower in my seat. Bedhead and no makeup doesn't fit her standards.

"It's very unbecoming, Isabella. Remember there are judges that live all over town, you could see them at any moment. Do you think they want a Miss Americana looking like this?"

I hold back tears, trying to understand how two different people can change your world in two completely different ways. Edward lifts me up, makes me brave, makes me feel like I'm perfect just the way I am. Momma breaks me down, makes me feel like I will never, ever be perfect enough.

"Okay, Momma." I err on the side of caution. "Momma, I'm going to spend the day with Dad tomorrow."

"If you insist," she calls. I hear the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on. Then, I let myself cry in the kitchen, by myself, wishing more than anything Edward, my own personal sunshine, was here again.


End file.
